


Pushed Too Hard

by Northern_Delicacy



Category: Agent Pendergast Series - Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child
Genre: Aloysius Pendergast/Corrie Swanson - Freeform, Alternate Ending, Angry Sex, Colorado, Cunnilingus, Danger, F/M, Kissing, Light Bondage, Nipple Piercings, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Roaring Fork, Rough Sex, Sex, Spanking, White Fire, f/m - Freeform, spontaneous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Delicacy/pseuds/Northern_Delicacy
Summary: What would happen if Corrie hadn't stormed out of the room while arguing with Pendergast?--Best read after Chapter 33 ofWhite Fireby Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child--This is my first ever fanfiction, so if you want to critique it, please be nice to my sensitive heart.
Relationships: Aloysius Pendergast/Corrie Swanson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Pushed Too Hard

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Stupid Idea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6964672) by [Krosis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krosis/pseuds/Krosis). 



> First and foremost, I used exact dialogue from _White Fire_ (pages 218-219, or about the end of chapter 33) in the beginning, and then changed the story for this fanfiction. The ending of the quoted lines is marked with an *
> 
> Secondly, I used a line from another fanfiction by user Krosis and his/her work ["A Stupid Idea"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6964672/chapters/15878779#workskin). The line I borrowed will be marked with an **
> 
> Thirdly, from the same aforementioned fanfiction, I borrowed another idea which is marked with a ***.

“I don’t _believe_ anything— yet. But I sense deep, strong water. I’m not in favor of your remaining in Roaring Fork any longer than necessary. I advise you to leave on the first plane out.”

Corrie stared at him “I’m twenty, and this is _my_ life. Not yours. I’m really thankful for all your help but... you’re not my father. I’m staying.”

“I will discourage it by withdrawing my financial support.”

“Fine!” Corrie’s pent-up anger came bursting out. “You’ve been interfering with my thesis from the beginning. You can’t help interfering— it’s the way you are— but I don’t appreciate it. Can’t you see how important this is to me? I’m getting tired of you telling me what to do.”

Something flashed across Pendergast’s face— something that, had she not been so angry, she would have recognized as dangerous. “My only concern in the matter is your safety. And I must add that the risks you face are greatly augmented by your unfortunate tendency toward impetuousness and imprudence.”

“If you say so. But I’m done talking. And I’m staying in Roaring Fork whether you like it or not.”

As Pendergast began to speak again, she got up so abruptly she knocked over her chair*, turning to storm out of the room.

“Corrine Swanson!” Pendergast called out sharply, standing up. She froze mid-step, turning to face him slowly, not intending to give him the satisfaction of knowing his voice chilled her to the core. Her green eyes, fierce and furious, met his frosty and dangerous grey ones. They stared down one another, the air bristling with tension. “You will leave Roaring Fork at the soonest available flight. This is not a request; this is an order.” 

But Corrie was resolute. Her jaw tensed in fury, her face flushed from the humid room and the anger. “Make me,” she said in a steady voice, not betraying her fear. Never before had she pushed Pendergast this hard... and then again, never before had she wanted to accomplish something so badly, either. She wanted to dart out of the room with her tail between her legs, but her pride kept her in place. 

Pendergast’s whole body tensed, and he glared at her. He looked, to Corrie, like he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake— or maybe hit her. It was then that Corrie became suddenly aware that they were standing very close.  
Pendergast’s lithe form loomed over her threateningly, sending a shudder down Corrie’s spine. It was a combination of fear and... _lust_ , against all reason. The FBI agent was muscular, pale, witty, deadly, refined— never particularly Corrie’s type, but goddamn attractive nonetheless.

His sharp eyes bore into hers, bright, body tense— and Corrie snapped. Something about how undone this frayed and angry Pendergast was, so different from his usual calculated self, changed her anger to arousal. The smell of him so close to her was like an aphrodisiac, and she pounced.  
She grabbed his tie in one smooth motion and yanked, hard, bringing his head down to meet hers. She pressed her lips against his, forcing them open by grabbing a handful of his blonde hair and pulling. 

Pendergast froze for a moment, and Corrie half expected him to throw her out before she came to her senses. But he didn’t; instead he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, so tight she almost couldn’t breathe. His tongue found hers, and she moaned into his mouth. He pushed back against her, eager for more, and Corrie struggled to keep up, dizzy from a lack of air and mind blank from lust.

Corrie suddenly banged into something behind her—the desk— falling backwards onto it. Pendergast didn’t seem to notice, climbing onto the desk kissing her all the while.  
Corrie struggled to maintain a sitting position, the situation rapidly getting out of hand. She didn’t know what she expected to happen by kissing him, but definitely not _this!_

Pendergast bit down on her lower lip, ending the kiss, then pushed her down onto the desk. His practiced hands flew to the buttons on her white blouse, and he undid them deftly. And only then did he allow space between the two of them, so he could take in the sight before him.  
Corrie Swanson, beneath him, blouse opened wearing a black lace-trimmed bra, skirt hitched up, face flushed with arousal, eyes burning with a fierce need.  
**“My dear, beautiful, Corrie. You should know I highly enjoy seeing you like this. So aroused..." Pendergast murmured softly in her ear. "It is- what do they call it these days? It's fucking hot."**  
The use of the expletive sent a sharp pang of lust through her, making her gasp. Pendergast devoured her gasp with a rough kiss, one arm supporting his weight while the other pushed up Corrie’s bra to fondle her. When he felt something strange, he broke the kiss to look.  
***“A piercing, Corrie?” He asked, a slightly amused smirk on his face.  
She threw off her blouse and bra, showing off her jewelry, nipples hardening in the air. ”Like what you see?” She asked, teasingly.  
In response, Pendergast bent his head to her ample chest and pulled a nipple into his mouth. Corrie moaned; her panties were beyond wet, and his tongue on her felt better than she could have imagined. Before long, Pendergast’s attentions moved lower. Kissing down her body, he arrived at the top of her skirt, grabbing all her layers of clothes and yanking them down. Corrie lifted her hips off the table to let him take off her skirt, stockings, and panties. Her body felt like it was on fire, and her skin ached for his touch. More than that, she wanted _him_. Inside her. She couldn’t wait any longer; she ached to be filled and fucked like tomorrow wouldn’t come. She whispered these desires to him, and something flashed across his eyes.  
“Will you leave Roaring Fork?” He asked, eyes meeting hers again.  
“No,” she replied simply, anger returning.  
Pendergast’s response was to grab Corrie’s legs and tug her to the edge of the desk, womanhood level with his mouth.  
Corrie gasped, sitting up, and Pendergast pushed his tongue into her folds. He lapped up Corrie’s arousal as she swore and bucked her hips against him. Her hand found his hair, pulling him deeper into her. He sucked on her clit and slid a pale finger into her, moving it in and out teasingly.  
“Fuck! More,” Corrie pleaded, “faster!” Corrie could feel the pleasure building in her, desperately craving release. He obliged, adding another digit, pumping into her faster.  
Corrie’s muscles tensed, bracing for an earth-shattering orgasm, when Pendergast suddenly stopped.  
Corrie mewled in protest, looking at him in confusion.  
“Will you leave Roaring Fork?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.  
Her stomach sank, and suddenly she understood— _he won’t let me cum until I say yes_ , she thought.  
“No,” she replied defiantly. She knew what she had to do— she had to turn the tables on him, somehow. Jumping off the desk, she pulled Pendergast up to her lips. She could taste herself on him, and it threw her into a frenzy trying to undo his clothes. Since when did ties get so complicated?!

The buttons to his suit and dress shirt were less of a challenge than the tie, thank god, and his coat ended up in a heap on the floor among the rest of the scattered clothes. Pendergast had, meanwhile, returned his attentions to keeping Corrie on the verge of an orgasm, his finger running circles around her sensitive spot. 

She could hardly think straight, and she fumbled at the buttons on Pendergast’s shirt. He stopped to help her undress him, casting aside the shirt haphazardly.

Corrie took in his pale chest, marveling at the countless scars that covered him. She kissed the ones level with her height, moving down his body like he did hers. When she found herself at his navel, she reached for his belt, undoing it and letting his pants fall to the ground. 

Corrie had other boyfriends before— nothing ever serious, and mostly one night stands. But even she was taken aback by the impressive tent in his briefs. She reached toward his erection when Pendergast grabbed her wrist tightly. He smoothly stepped aside and yanked her forward, bending her over the desk. He grabbed both her wrists and pulled them together behind her back. She felt fabric against them— Pendergast’s tie, she realized— and a hot pressure against her pussy.

Corrie thrust herself backwards onto the hot pivot, but Pendergast held her fast. He asked again, “Will you leave Roaring Fork?”

“You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Pendergast. No. I won’t go.” She said impatiently, squirming against him. 

It came as a total shock when the first smack hit her ass. She cried out. The slap seemed to echo in the air, and it took her a second to process what just happened. Pendergast just... _spanked_ her.  
He rubbed a hand over the spot he hit, and the other found its way to her clit again. Without warning, his hand came down again on her other cheek.

Lust and pain flooded through her, and Corrie wasn’t sure whether she wanted to beg Pendergast to keep going or beg him to stop. She ached from being tied up and bent over, tits pressed uncomfortably into the desk. But every sensation felt _right_ , somehow, and she got closer to climax with every hit. 

She lost count of how many hits it was before she found herself panting and begging for Pendergast again; it could have been 5 or 100— it made no difference. All that mattered was the heat pressed against her opening, teasing her mercilessly.  
“Will you leave Roaring Fork?” He asked, again, sensing her answer might be different this time. The answer rose to Corrie’s lips instinctively; _yes_ , she thought. _God, yes, anything, just please..._  
But she bit down on the words, knowing she should say no.

Pendergast pushed himself inside her, just the tip, but even that small motion made Corrie’s insides clench with desire. He pushed himself in a bit farther as he leaned forward to yank Corrie’s hair.  
“I asked, Corrie, if you will leave Roaring Fork. When I ask something, I expect an answer,” he murmured into her ear, nibbling on the tender, pierced lobe.  
“Ahh,” she moaned, arching her back. “Yes! Yes, I’ll go. I’ll leave tonight if you want— just please, please, fuck me already.”  
Biting her ear as a sign of acknowledgement, Pendergast thrust the rest of his length into Corrie. She screamed, and Pendergast muffled her moans with his hand. The room rang with the slap of his thrusts, hard and fast.

Corrie finally found her release, climaxing almost immediately, and found herself delirious with pleasure at Pendergast’s continued fucking. He thrust at a punishing pace, through Corrie’s convulsion, towards an orgasm of his own. 

Corrie felt his thrusts grow erratic, felt him stiffen, and felt hot liquid inside her, sending her into another climax. The two of them lay there, joined together, panting, coming down from their highs.

After what seemed like an eternity, Pendergast pulled away and untied Corrie’s hands. Their clothes were scattered all over the office, and Corrie unceremoniously set out to re-dress herself. She barely comprehended what just happened, and was deliberately saving processing that somewhere else. But that didn’t stop a growing sense of embarrassment from dawning on her, and she could barely look in Pendergast’s direction as he dressed himself, too. By the time each of them were dressed, Corrie was thoroughly red.  
Seeing her obvious shame, Pendergast chuckled and kissed her on the top of her head.  
“Have you thought twice about telling me to ‘make you’ do as I say?” He asked teasingly. 

“Yes... although I can’t say I regret it,” she murmured, eyes glued to the floor. “How was I supposed to know you could be so damn... _persuasive_.” No words could possibly describe the sensations he made her feel, bent over his desk. That was the wild, impulsive sex most people only dream about. 

She was still in a daze thinking about it as she booted up the library computer to book a flight back to John Jay.


End file.
